A Footy Tale
Written: 2nd Jul 2004 | Last Updated: 2nd Jul 2004
Very often, the little things in life are the ones which keep us fuelled up, positive and in love with the whole box of tricks otherwise known as existence.
Years ago, when our son was maybe eleven, he was crazy about football - Australian Rules football, to be precise. And as luck would have it, one of the boys next-door was a sporty type, and although he was three-and-a-half years older, he and our son often went down the road to the suburban playing field to kick and catch the oval ball.
Both boys delighted in thumping it as far as possible, determined to outdo one another in typically competitive, masculine fashion. With the age disadvantage, our son may have been smaller than the boy next-door, but he made up for it with natural flair.
Typically, after an hour or so of kicking and chasing, the footy warriors would come home sweaty and too exhausted to muster any immediate interest in homework. They’d sit on their front steps or ours - laughing and arguing happily about who did the longest kick or grabbed the best mark.
One afternoon, the playing field seemed too far away - as was sometimes the case. Instead of kicking the ball to one another in our dog-dominated front yard, the boys and ball retired to the neighbours’ back yard. From my kitchen, I could hear loud thumps as each boy attempted to kick the leather off the ball. They talked incessantly, enjoying the sport.
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